Eternal
by Dmarx
Summary: In which Castle decides upon the perfect dedication for Deadly Heat. Scene insert for Watershed.


_Author's Note: I saw a tumblr post a couple days ago in which someone questioned how Castle could have known the significance of the words he chose for the_ Deadly Heat dedication._ And then, well, this happened. Scene insert for Watershed._

___Posting this here now as well as on my tumblr - the twitterverse can be very persuasive._

_Disclaimer: Not mine._

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**Eternal**

"Thank you for coming. I...didn't know who else to call."

He wraps his hands around his coffee mug, raises it to his lips and takes a long, slow sip. "You sounded like you needed someone to listen."

Castle huffs a laugh. He's never been much of one to talk things out, content to simply work them out on his own. He's navigated his rise to fame, a celebrity lifestyle, even fatherhood, largely on his own. And done quite well, if he does say so himself.

But Kate Beckett.

She's something else entirely. And he has no idea how to handle this.

Which is why he finds himself sitting across from Jim Beckett in a cozy little diner, absently staring at his steaming mug of coffee while the older man's all-too-knowing eyes search his face. But for a man who makes a living with words, Castle is at a loss. Because how exactly is he supposed to convey his feelings to his girlfriend's father without speaking ill of her? How is he supposed to suppress the pain and anger and sadness that's clenching his chest, sucking the air from his lungs?

It's a fine line, and one that he has no clue how to traverse.

"I assume this is about Katie," the elder man finally says, putting an end to the horribly awkward silence.

Castle nods.

"She told me about the job."

He nods again, still doesn't know what to say.

"Things have been rough lately," Jim states empathetically. Castle wants to deny it, but he knows it's futile. It's written all over his face. And he wouldn't be here if everything was fine.

"I thought things were going well," he begins plaintively. "But now...I don't know what to think anymore."

"She loves you, Rick," Jim states with confidence. Castle wishes he could harness the certainty in Kate's father's voice, because he's anything but convinced at the moment. "I think she's just confused. Worried."

"Worried?"

"She asked me, and I quote, 'what if all we're in love with is the dance?' That eventually the music will stop and then..." Jim trails off, doesn't need to say more. They both know what comes next.

Castle stares blankly, unable to process the words, comprehend how she can possibly say that. How, after everything they've been through, she can possibly think what they have is no more than a dance.

"Now, I don't know exactly why she feels that way," Jim admits. "And I didn't ask. But I do know true love when I see it. And what you two have...it's more than just a dance."

"I know."

"Good," Jim affirms, follows his words with another swallow of the hot beverage.

"God, I love her _so much_," Castle chokes out into the silence, the words, the emotion suddenly spilling out of him without warning. "And I don't know...I can't..." he shakes his head, trails off. He has no idea what to think anymore, how to make her see that he's in this. That he's so far in that he has no idea how he'd ever be able to get out even if he wanted to.

And he hates that he's doing this in front of Kate's father, that his crazy, jumbled up emotions chose now, of all times, to break free and come rushing out.

Jim, however, seems remarkably unfazed. "Does Katie know you feel this way?" he asks, eyes full of understanding and respect for the man who is clearly so completely in love with his daughter.

"She should," Castle answers. He's said the words more than once. She should know.

But...apparently she doesn't, for whatever reason. And he needs to fix that.

First, though, he needs to go home and write, clear the raging storm that swirls through his mind, because he'll never be able to have a productive conversation with her in his current state.

It may never end up in Nikki Heat. Or maybe it will. He doesn't know. Maybe he'll draft up a letter instead, plan out what he's going to say to her. It's already coming together in his mind, a rough sketch of the words he'll use to convince her that they're so much more than just a dance. That they always have been.

Castle stands abruptly, digs out his wallet and tosses a twenty onto the table, more than enough to cover both their coffees and a generous tip. Jim regards him curiously, still firmly seated with both hands cradling the ceramic mug.

"I should...go," Castle stammers. "I just...umm. Thank you."

Jim merely smiles knowingly, watches with a soft smile as Castle dashes from the restaurant.

He doesn't like to interfere, normally tries to keep his mouth shut when it comes to the people in his daughter's life. But he likes Castle. And he's never for a second doubted his love for his daughter, so in this case, he doesn't feel all that bad about giving them both a nudge in the right direction.

Three months later, as he flips open the dedication page for _Deadly Heat,_ he knows without a doubt that he made the right decision.

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_To KB: May the dance never end and the music never stop._

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**END**


End file.
